


A Story only three know

by Byaku_chi



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angry France (Hetalia), Burning at stake, Character Death, England becomes an Angel, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Gen, In a way, Jeanne d'Arc | Joan of Arc has divine heritage, Kind England (Hetalia), Misunderstandings, Poor England (Hetalia), Poor Jeanne d'Arc|Joan of Arc, Prussia is mostly watching, Swearing, magic (mentioned), no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 08:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30002154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byaku_chi/pseuds/Byaku_chi
Summary: England liked Joan and wished to protect her even thought they were enemies and he could not defie his people.Joan pitied him as much as she liked him.And Prussia watched the two of them in confusion till the end.
Relationships: England & Prussia (Hetalia), England (Hetalia)&Jeanne d'Arc | Joan of Arc, France (Hetalia)/Jeanne d'Arc | Joan of Arc (mentioned)
Kudos: 1





	A Story only three know

England with a sad but hopeful smile adorning his face observed his most hated enemy and at the same time most loved friend from afar. The Frenchman was strolling through the woods with a lovely girl in tow. England knew her, naturally he recognized who she was, for she was Joan. She represented his sole ray of hope. She was what France loved. He observed the girl and nodded approvingly. Truly, she was benefiting of her heritage, not her families only hers. She had to live, and he would make sure of it, to the best of his abilities. He wasn’t sad about Francis loving her like everybody thought, why would he? He only loved that man as a brother at most and even this was strained now. A chortling laugh escaped him, truly all his family relations were like that: Strained. The only one of his blood family that did not despise him was Wales. He guessed that man knew more than he let on since he always looked at him with sadness. Not continuing to dwell in such thoughts, he continued watching the couple.  
  
Expressive green eyes sparkled with genuine happiness which steamed from their genuine love. England clasped his calloused hands together and prayed to a god. He would later deny the existence of. He prayed for their happiness since it was something a Nation typically did not get. He sincerely wished them a blessed love. Part of his being bitterly hated her for she remains the enemy of his people, but another part dearly loved her for she was the last of her kind…  
  
Having gained this new conviction England stood up, turned around, leaving those two alone in the woods not noticing two unusual pairs of eyes were following him. One belonging to the fair Maiden he just watched, it was marred with profound sadness. Overwhelming sadness for the foolish man that just walked away, not befitting her and understanding far beyond her. The other pair belonging to a white-haired man not too far away, this one was burning with apparent confusion and interest.

* * *

  
England mused that today really wasn’t his day. At the beginning, he had to listen as his ruler admonished him. Next as he arrived at his home, or well better the bleak room he was currently lodging at, Caliborne, a little pixie which he befriended after gifting her a ribbon, appeared. She respectfully informed him of the fact that Joan was debating if she should try to escape by jumping out of the tower. Cursing horribly, he teleported into the forest which was not too far away from the tower and sprinted toward it as fast as he could. The moment he arrived at his destination, he saw the woman jump.  
“You damned Idiot,” he said, exhaling his anger at her forcefully as he grasped her in his arms.  
He carefully whipped a few tears away that were running down the maiden’s cheek. “Hush luv, it is fine. They proposed to the French, that if they pay ransom you can be released to their side.” He did not notice the humourless tone or the dull despairing eyes which were staring over his shoulder into the woods as she answered, “And will they pay?” He set her down so. She could stand on her own two feet and whispered solemnly into nothingness “I genuinely hope so, luv. I do.”  
  
She laughed grimly. “You poor Soul, so very poor and yet, you possess so much faith.”  
England, who still hasn’t noticed the unusual presence in the forest since it wasn’t his land they stood upon and the presence held no malice towards him. It might also be faulted towards the faerie folk, that was there with him, but saw no reason to inform him. Another reason might be the wholesome atmosphere the maiden in his arms released thanks to her heritage which renders him at ease. He laughed gently and answered “What can I have but faith? And do not praise me for something you posses so much more of.”  
  
Red eyes carefully observed England while he stood in front of a Tower catching the Maiden everyone said he wanted dead. He noticed how close those two seemed. He passively watched her pity him and pondered why, she was clearly in a considerably graver situation than the blond in front of her.  
Furthermore, he thoughtfully watched as the blond sternly admonished the helpless girl after they both left the others familiar embrace.  
”I did not try so hard for you to kill yourself… Do you not recognize the consequences of your death? Dammit! Please do not die.” With that the blond reluctantly left the unfortunate woman and ran away promptly disappearing between the trees.  
  
The albino surveying them was just about to leave, when he heard the Maiden mutter just loud enough for him to hear “Is that why you instructed me to jump? … His evident wish will never be fulfilled what a sad soul he is. How marred with pain and how stricken with bad luck you say… Then why not help him? You say he is choosen for greater tasks than I could imagine but but in truth you chain him to our task because we have no descendans and he will not die. May I inquire why him? Cause his magic is stong... But surley there must be others... That ... Poor Soul.” The Maiden looked sadly into the specific direction the man left. The red eyes narrowed in confusion; he discovered no love between those two. They should despise each other eternally. So why was one feeling the need to secure the enemy of his people while the other feels deep sadness and pity for the personification of their enemy? Why was there such a deep understanding in the frail woman’s eyes, what did she see? What did she know? And what task was she muttering about?

* * *

  
The next time the Albino saw England it was raining. He stood far enough away not to be noticed but near enough to overhear what was said thanks to the wind blowing into his direction. He watched as the male with green eyes was pinned against a tree by his French friend. He watched as his friend insulted the man, watched as he punched him and watched as he remarked something, he knew to be wrong. But it was not his trouble, so he saw no need to get involved, call him an ass and see if he cares.  
  
„You insufferable bastard just couldn't see me happy could you?“ the French hissed. „Couldn't stand me loving someone else, them possessing something you will never have. Her having my heart, you _sac à merde[1]_. _Fils de pute t´as pas de couilles[2]_ to fight me so you capture her? Release her!“ England jerked his head back impassively and tried to explain „I didn't want this …“ but he was cut off by the Frenchman „Sure you didn't desire this… _va te faire chier[3]_ “ with that he punched the other one last time before he turned around and left with an angry huff.

England just sat there on the ground looking up into the sky and talking to something the albino could not see. „I require her to live. I want it the most, you remain an insufferable dumbass you know. Why won't he just pay the ransom?" He nodded "You guys know it was under no circumstances that I was jealous of them. - Why would the others say that. For I wished and prayed for the best of them… woefully nobody listens to my wishes anyway.“ Looking like he was admonished the man huffed lightly "I got it sorry, you guys do." He stood up and stretched out his hand out, watching the rain gather in it for a bit before leaving.

The albino might have thought him crazy for talking to himself before but now he was not too sure about that assumption.

* * *

"Since she relapsed, the church shall hold her accountable she was judged and shall be put to death by burning on stake." Following, that was a list of the fair maidens’ crimes but England stopped listening to that. How outrageous they all behaved just because she dressed as a male. What she called protection they call heresy. She had no choice he knew.

On the night between the 29th and 30th May, he stealthily entered the prison to talk to Joan and help her escape naturally he put the knights to sleep with a light sleeping spell.  
  
What he did not foresaw was her rejecting him. In a cracked voice the maiden continued laying there "I shall not escape. There is nowhere for me to go. My role on earth is fulfilled for I was abandoned by everyone." He looked at her sadly "Do not give up I can get you out of here." She smiles brokenly, "You could, but it would not serve anyone but me. I want to be selfish really, but I am not allowed to. I shall follow this broken path where I was all but abandoned till the end."  
  
"I see. Lend me your hand then and allow me to give you one last present." He begged of her, but his voice was devoid of anything.  
  
Heaving a deep breath, she gradually lifted her shackled arm and held her hand out to him. He gently took it and placed a kiss upon the coarse skin, a gold shimmer swirled around it while he pulled back. Fearing the answer, she asked slowly "What did you do?"  
"Nothing much... Make sure to smile at all those watching you tomorrow."   
  
  
Before she could say anymore, he left only to be captured by his own people right after leaving through the doors of the prison. "I knew you would visit her Arthur. You seemed extremely keen on defending her." "Ah I knew you would be over here." the Personification only answered while offering no resistance towards his people. 

* * *

  
At the old marketplace in Rouen an albino watched on the 30th May 1431 as a woman was dragged onto the stake. She was forcibly restrained to the pole and a burning torch was thrown at the stake to ignite it.  
  
Frowning the Albino noticed that he could not spot the Englishman anywhere, which normally would not be strange, but he was pretty certain he would not miss the maidens last moments. While looking around he noticed the maidens surprised look as the flames surrounded her whole body. But something was missing in those dull eyes and she laughed and laughed bitterly. She must have gone crazy from the pain he mused, but his breath stoked this was missing from her eyes the pain. Under all that laughing he could see her lips move but the only thing the albino made out was "This is one grand present... painless death... Thank you... Pitiful man." He swiftly looked around harder to discover England pretty sure she referred to him with what she said. Smoke in the east caught his eye. There should only be one fire around here at this time. Suspicious.  
  
While he swiftly moved through the forest towards the other smoke source, he walked past two knights "I get burning the lass but why did we also put that man on the stake?" "I am sure our superior had his reasons." The Prussian gasped and started sprinting when they were out of sight. Horrified he ran as fast as he could hoping his prediction was wrong.  
  
Arriving at the other stake, his breath stocked. There was England amidst blazing flames. The albino with shocked reverence watched as a tear streamed down the blonds cheek and burning pain marred his face when suddenly angel wings sprouted from his wounded back. The blond muttered a sad "Oh she is gone already."  
  
Prussia could no longer watch and grabbed his knife while he jumped nimbly into the raging fire to release the other man. Within a few seconds he hauled him out of the fire and slung him over his shoulder before running into the woods. Nobody should find out about the wings, or it would have bad consequences for the other. Being an albino, he knew it was hard being different in their time.

* * *

  
A few days later one could find two bouquets of flowers in front of the place the maiden was burned. They would from then on appear there on the day of her death every other year, or better when the two people responsible were able to deliver them.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation for the french parts  
> [1]bag of shit  
> [2] Son of a bitch you don't have the balls  
> [3]Go fuck yourself
> 
> I do not speak french just so you know.  
> So my friend informed me that it might be a bit hard to find the hints left that kinda hint at the reason why ENgland grew Angel wings at the end. That is why I tried to make the more obvious now.  
> But I will also explain it here shhortly:
> 
> Joan was the last of her 'kind' and had a heritage which was only hers not her families.  
> This is to say that Joan was actually an Angel, the last one at that.  
> But since ther was a need for angels to exist even after her death this role was given to england since he is one of the countries that is the most in touch with magic and his mythtical creatures and for another reason that will be explained if I ever make a sequel.
> 
> I had the idea for this when I thought about Angel England durnig a seminar about Joan. It might seem a bit strange to you but I tried to keep it in historical order at least the parts where Joan appeared. The first part of this story is set somewhere before she is captured just in case anyone should be confused.
> 
> Well this would be all from my side.  
> Stay well ^^  
> I do hope you enjoyed reading this. 
> 
> Over and out XD


End file.
